A Written Confession
by yellow 14
Summary: Sitting in a cell, Molly Weasley II writes down the short tale of her fall from grace. Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 8


Disclaimer: 354 stories in and I'm STILL having to say this? Never mind. I STILL don't own, understand?

AN: Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 8 and my prompts are diary, 'The higher you climb, the further you have to fall.' and owl. As always, all prompts will be in italics and the character I have chosen is Molly Weasley II

Dear _Diary._

Once upon a time, there was a very wise muggle author (I forget their name) who wrote a truly wonderful and very true line, one that I understand far too well from the wrong side of experience.

It sounds really obvious really, but it's something that took…well it's complicated to say the least. Several kinds of complicated and…

Well it's not complicated really. I'm just trying to avoid talking about it. Procrastinating, even though I said I wouldn't. You're probably wondering what that phrase is as well. (Well no you probably aren't. Unless you're reading my diary, in which case go away!) But then again, I think someone should know the truth, even if it is just sheets of paper

' _The higher you climb, the further you have to fall'_

That's what the quote says. Wish I knew who said it.

It's amazing, isn't it? It's one of those things that sounds so obvious but I had no idea just how utterly true it was until I was on the wrong side of it.

Sorry, I think I already said that. Maybe I'm going senile (Hah, I'm twenty six this year!)

Funny, it all started just after I left Hogwarts. I had the world at my feet, could have gone anywhere, and done anything with my life. I had the grades (Five O's and two E's in my NEWTS no less!), the looks, the family connections, everything. I could have gone into any career in any position in the wizarding world. I had it all and I knew it, arrogant child that I was. I was arrogant, conceited and thought I knew it all.

How wrong I was. How wrong indeed.

I went to Eastern Europe on what I told myself was a research trip. I wanted to find out more about the journey that Voldemort had made, discover just what he learnt of the dark arts and show the world that I was more than just another Weasley.

Well I'm definitely more than just another Weasley now. Just not in the way my seventeen year old self ever intended or wanted.

At first I made good progress, following tomes of powerful dark magic's and discovering long forgotten curses that had long since been forgotten by most wizards. Spells that corrupted the very soul of the caster and spells that could draw dark creatures of every hue.

I held back from casting them, at least at first. Partially because I was afraid of what might happen and partially because I didn't think that I needed to. Some of those spells were pretty nasty in what they'd do to a person.

Then I found…well it's pretty hard to talk about to be honest.

Let's make this as quick and painless as possible. The Escoria.

They sound perfectly innocuous really, don't they? A group of witches and wizard dedicated to uncovering the secrets behind Voldemort and his various spells. A group that saw the world as not good and bad but merely magical. No blood purity or anything like that, just a curious group of scholars. Nothing really to be afraid of at all and as their goals aligned with mine, I was happy to join.

Somewhere along the line, we started to experiment. We'd test out spells on animals and plants to find out what they did, experiment with how effective they could be, that sort of thing.

The first time I cast a dark spell, a Cutesh Ardems curse that burns away the subject's skin, I was sick to my stomach. Back then, we were still using animals, in my case a simple mouse. The poor creature writhed around in agony for the better part of twenty minutes at least.

I should have left there and then. I should have walked away, but no I was far to obsessed with my own self importance. They played to my ego, my vanity and I, like a fool, played right into their hands.

I delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, each new spell taking me that little bit further away from the light and into the darkness. Whether it was the Cormus Mettallum spell to turn a person's heart to steel or an anisun Ingnus spell that called upon the fire of the very soul, I cast them all on whatever animal test subjects they would bring me.

The time I turned, really turned in earnest, was when I was preparing to test one of the latest spells we had discovered. By now, we had left Voldemort behind and were moving on to other, newer spells that Voldemort had never utilised. The animal I was meant to be testing the spell on had gone missing and I was most annoyed.

Down in the dark laboratory beneath the floors of Borun Castle I waited. And waited and waited and waited with only my beloved pet _owl_ for company. Eventually, one of the servants came down to ask me if I would like some refreshments while I waited and then it happened. I cast the spell, the Praeposte Interios curse and the spell worked perfectly. The poor girl never knew what hit her as her body literally turned itself inside out and spread her innards all over the floor.

I should have been horrified. I should have been sickened even, but instead I was…I was…

I was invigorated. Ecstatic in fact. I brought the others in and told them that we were thinking too small in terms of testing on animals when these spells were designed to be used on human beings. I told them that we needed to use humans to fully understand what we were testing and to see the 'proper' results the way they were intended.

I don't know why nobody stopped us or stood up and said this was wrong. Maybe we were too far into the dark arts, maybe our souls were already too corrupted or maybe we allowed ourselves to be caught up in the thrill of discovery. Whatever the reason, we allowed ourselves to begin down that dark path that everyone now knows about.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we abduct and experimented on dozens of muggles, casting evil spells just for the sake of casting them rather than genuine research. Men, women and even children were subject to our desires for ever more dark magic and ever further degradation of our humanity. We didn't care about blood purity or wizarding dominance, all we sought was power and knowledge.

It didn't last of course. The German Ministry of Magic swept in and for all our learning; we were no match for their aurors. A couple of ours were killed in the fighting and we soon surrendered.

For the past several months, my case has been shuffled between the Ministry in Britain and Germany. Apparently, they weren't sure whether someone as famous as me fell under their jurisdiction or whether I should be tried and sentenced in Britain. The others…they weren't so lucky. Or maybe they were in a way. The German authorities executed them after finding them guilty of dark crimes too horrific to mention against muggles while I sat here and stewed and reflected on my actions in this cell.

My parents visited me and the looks on their faces when they saw me…I think that really brought it home to me just how far I had fallen. They hugged me and told me that they would do everything possible to bring me home.

I wish they had just executed me and have done. AT least that way I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge of what I've done.

Instead all I do is sit here and wait and maybe hope that someday I can atone for my crimes.

Postscript: This tome was retreived from the corpse of the prisoner after her execution and sent on to her family in Britain.


End file.
